Living Outside of the Box
by MeterMaids
Summary: There are two ways to live life. You're either six feet under or walking on the Earth. No one knows which is better. No one wants to know which is better. You accept it and move on. At least...that's what everyone tries to do.


**_AN: This takes place late April of 1959. In addition, facts will be combined between the movie and the novella, so don't be too alarmed at the potential stretches. Also, we don't own any characters, of course. Just the typical disclaimer._**

* * *

 _...It's Bossman Bob Cormier, coming to you live on K-L-A-M Radio in Portland! In a few moments, we'll be rolling in some 'Top Ten' charts, but first-_

"Fuck it," Ace Merrill muttered, turning the volume knob down as far as he could. He was in no mood for Portland Favorites and whatever else Cormier had to announce.

All the chatter on the radio was pointless. In Ace's opinion, it was made for music. He wanted to hear some good tunes, not the jacked-up-on-Coca-Cola voice of the latest radio man. Keep in mind, Portland lost those guys like first graders lost their milk money. They were in and out constantly.

He slammed his empty coffee cup down onto the counter, watching as the last drops sloshed against the inside. He waited a moment, checking to see if any of it had gone onto the counter. There would have been no following clean-up, but he wanted to know when and where he made a mess. That way, he could deny it even better when he got yelled at.

With one swipe through his hair, Ace tossed his comb down onto the counter. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, fine with what he saw. What was there to object to? He looked _great_. _Ha._

"See ya later, you old fuck," he muttered beneath his breath, noticing his dad heading into the living room right behind him.

Ace followed his pride out of the door, hoping to catch up with it at some point during the day. Ever since things had been jumbled up at school, it seemed that he could hardly catch a break. One person is gone, and everything is thrown to shambles.

All over town, white ribbons were displayed, memorializing Denny Lachance. The morning after the accident, the women's auxiliary spent the morning tying ribbons on any post and mailbox they found fit.

As his eyes glanced over the sporadic white all down the street, Ace couldn't help but want to tear them down. It had been a week and a half now; how long did they have to stay up? He felt that they made things worse. It was the last thread on a tooth ready to fall out. They needed to pull it out, let it all go. Denny wasn't coming back.

In the beginning of April, the town star had gotten in a Jeep accident. The report said Denny was killed on impact, while his passenger was put in a coma, but no one knew for sure. Besides, a coma didn't mean shit. George Dickens, his best friend, died three days later.

It was wrong in every which way. With Denny Lachance dead, George had been completely overlooked. He was new to the town, did nothing for society, and had his family far up North. His escape to a new life landed him six feet under and completely in the shadows. At least his body got some respect up in Burrows. They cared there. They weren't blinded by Denny there.

"It's about time you showed up," Eyeball Chambers muttered from his front porch, stepping up the second he saw his good friend. They tried walking to school together as much as they could, skipping out on the option to be alone. Besides, they looked tougher by twos.

"Shut up, asshole," Ace retorted, finding no real anger. A bad mood had been set, but that was it. Nothing would change it, but it would take a lot to make it worse.

Ace was like a functioning alcoholic...except he was almost always in a bad mood, rather than drunk. That was just the way live was when you had a drunk for a father, a half-dead beat mother that hardly showed up, and lived in a town full of picture perfect families. And that was being nice about it.

"Whatever you say," finally came the reply. It didn't hold much more conversation after that. The two guys stayed quiet the remainder of their walk, proving to themselves that walking alone wouldn't have made much of a difference. The silence of the town around them drove straight over their vocal chords.


End file.
